


Before The World Was Big.

by face_aches



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc - Freeform, Also kind of, Eventual Romance, Fairground, Funfair, M/M, Pre-Gorillaz, alternative universe, i don’t know this is my first fic pls don’t bully me, kind of, murdoc just wants to make music, stuart just wants to live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/face_aches/pseuds/face_aches
Summary: stuart pot is 19, a high school drop out, and stuck working the dodgems at his dads funfair.murdoc niccals is 31, on the wrong side of life, and in desperate need of band members (and maybe even a friend).(a pre-gorillaz fairground mini fic that nobody asked for).
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 34
Kudos: 103





	1. Blue Boy.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!
> 
> ok so to start off this is my first fic so please go easy on me.
> 
> each chapter (and the fic title) will be the name from songs i enjoy (i will post the song name and artist name in each chapter note!)
> 
> ‘Before The World Was Big’ by Girlpool.  
> ‘Blue Boy’ by Mac Demarco.
> 
> if you enjoy my work and want to see more of what i do, follow me on instagram! @/face.aches !
> 
> stay safe!!

It was the clank of his dad’s fork hitting against the ceramic plate that woke Stuart from his daydream. He had been rightfully thinking of the beach, and how he hadn’t been since the middle of high school. He was desperate to hear the ocean waves and eat overpriced ice cream. 

His eyes shot up to look at his father, before giving the older man a lopsided half smile. It was obvious his father was waiting on an answer to a question that Stuart hadn’t heard. His mother sighed slightly, before gently running her hand up and down her husbands arm, hoping to calm him. 

His dad had been so worked up lately and Stuart hadn’t understood why. He didn’t see it as his place to poke in to his fathers brain, and had decided to sit out the game of twenty questions until his old man spoke to him about it on his own time. 

Apparently that time was now.

David rolled his eyes at his son’s cluelessness, before letting out a long sigh through his nose. He picked up his fork and returned to stabbing at the medley of steamed vegetables on his plate. 

“Come on, Stu. Pay attention. I asked if you had seen anything today on your shift?”

Stu thought for a moment. And then another moment. Anybody else would’ve been able to answer straight away, but not everybody had scrambled eggs for brains and were constantly fogged up on painkillers. He screwed his eyebrows slightly before speaking. 

“Like… Other than the dodgems?” 

He hadn’t meant to anger his father with the question, and yet now David was slumped back in his seat rubbing the bridge of his nose. They could both feel a headache coming on. 

“Yea, Stuart. Other than the dodgems. Did you notice anyone stealing? There’s been folk stealing from the stalls for a while now. Probably some drunken teenagers trying to impress each other…”

Stuart frowned at that. Surely he would’ve noticed if somebody had tried to nick a dodgem cart. He decided not to bring that up to his dad, and instead settled on a simple shrug. 

“No… I ain’t seen anything like it… I’ll keep an eye out tho.”

He looked at his dad, who was finally smiling again. Their relationship had become strained since Stuart’s accident a few years previous. 

Stu had been climbing a tree one summer afternoon in the garden, and wanted to impress his mum by getting to the top branch. This ended in him falling out and hitting his head hard. His hair fell out not long after, resulting in what his father had described as ‘an eye-sore’ of brilliant blue locks replacing his own brown ones. He frequented headaches, had forgotten simple things like tying his shoes and names of places and people, and had become awfully slow in school. He had dropped out at 17 and worked for his father at the fairground ever since. 

His dad had always dreamed of him becoming a footballer or a lawyer, but Stuart spent the majority of his time now taking tickets to ride the dodgems, or fiddling about with the insides of old keyboards and other electronics. 

He was caught in another dream, envisioning himself playing pro in the Premier League, when the scraping of wooden chair legs against tile flooring brought him back just in time to hear his father speak again. 

“Right. Thank you. Give one of the guys a shout if you do see anything.” 

And with that, his father sat his now empty dinner plate in the sink and headed off to the shed in the garden to sort the books out for the next coming weeks at work. Stuart gathered up his own dirty dishes before placing them in the sink. It was his go to wash up. He dunked his hands in the sudsy water and began to clean up the plates, pots, and cutlery that had been used during dinner that night. He nodded at his mothers thank you, before draining the sink and drying his hands on his trousers. 

Stuart found himself back in his room, sat at his old scratched up desk. The latest keyboard he had managed to fix was sat in front of him. He had taken to playing about with music recently. It seemed to help his headaches, and anything was better than taking those god awful pills that numbed everything inside him. 

He fiddled about with a few of the keys, before scrawling the notes down in his tattered notebook. The melody came easy to him, but lyrics were the tricky thing. He had always wanted to write from the heart and the experiences he had in life, but what excitement was there in a song about some fairground carny from Crawley? He couldn’t even remember the last time he had stepped foot out of his town or ran in to something other than the grey bricks that built every house and every street surrounding him. His life had become the same mundane cycle of work and sleep that he had forgotten what excitement was. 

He didn’t want to be stuck here his whole life. Stuart had known that since he was young, but now at 19 and tied to the family business he didn’t see another way out. Perhaps he would rot in Crawley just like everything else did. 

Stuart felt his fingers trail off the keys, before his vision permanently fixed on the cork board in front of him. Maybe all he was destined for was the dodgems. 

Stuart’s next shift at the fairground went like any other. He happily took tickets from the excited kids and teens that produced them to him. He fiddled with buttons and switches to power on and off the dodgems, and he escorted people to and from their carts. It was a simple job with a good rhythm to it, and it left him plenty of time to zone out in between and dream of what he wanted. 

A while in, he was patted out and told to go on his scheduled break. Like every other shift, he found himself beside the burger van a few stalls down from the dodgems station. The hum of the generator behind the van reminded him of his migraines. Some day when both noises melted together, he couldn’t decipher which was from what, and honestly couldn’t see the point in trying to figure it out. Luckily today wasn’t one of those days, and he went without the humming once he had stepped away with his paper tray containing the oily chips and waves of ketchup he had bought. He smiled to himself as he picked through the pile in his hand. 

Stuart easily mixed in to the crowed around him. His bright azure hair fitted perfectly with the colours of the fairground. This was the one place he looked like he truly belonged. 

Once done with his less than filling meal, he threw the greased up cardboard in to one of the bins, and wandered over to the stall selling sweets and candy floss and ice cream. The woman behind it was older, but extremely kind to Stuart, and often let him take a small mixup bag whenever he was on shift. 

They chatted idly about little to nothing, when Stuart noticed the shifty man at the other side of the stall. He kept his cool and didn’t make it obvious when he snuck occasional glances at him. The woman behind the stall didn’t seem to notice at all as she continued to ask Stuart how his little electronic projects were going. She didn’t seem to realise anything was off until the guy swiped a few bags and slid them in to his pocket and took off, Stuart throwing her a hasty goodbye as he followed in pursuit.

Stuart wanted to catch this guy. He wanted to make his father proud like he had done as a kid. He didn’t want to constantly be a borderline fuck up. 

He was quick on his feet as the two of them weaved in and out of the crowd surrounding them. People didn’t seem to realise the chase going on around them until the stranger broke off in to a run. Stuart was quick to match his speed. His long legs and years of playing football had finally rewarded him with some form of athletic ability to catch the guy running off through the crowd. 

They had made it to a clearer patch of land near one of the exits hidden off at the side. 

Stuart reached out to grab at the others leather jacket, hoping to pull it back with the criminal still inside of it, but was surprised when he could feel grass smashing against his face. 

Stuart was in shock. Rightfully so. His lunch consisting of chips and ketchup had just been followed up with a mouthful of dirt and sand and weeds. 

He pushed himself to a kneeling position before shooting an angry glare up at the man. 

The other was now stood above him, a wild smirk of pleasure on his lips. He produced one of the little plastic bags full of sweets from his pocket, before dropping it on the ground in front of Stuart in a silent taunt. 

Time seemed to slow as he finally turned on his heels and strolled out of the fairground. Even in his heroic hour, Stuart was unable to do anything right. 

He caught his breath, before pushing himself to his feet. He leaned down to grab the little plastic bag and shoved it in to his pocket with a defeated sigh. 

It was then he noticed his untied shoelaces; the culprit for his downfall. He was quick to tuck the laces in to the sides of his shoes, before storming back off to his position at the dodgems, truly defeated by life.


	2. The Boy With The Arab Strap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> first off i just wanted to say a huge thank you to everybody who took the time to read the first chapter and leave kudos! it means the absolute world to me that people are enjoying my work!!
> 
> i felt like a week was a bit long, so i plan on releasing chapters a day or two after they’ve been written (so i have time to properly edit them!).
> 
> as always, you can find me on instagram in between these updates @/face.aches! i’m always up for chatting to folk, and if u have any questions about the fic it’s usually best to reach me there!
> 
> this chapters song is ‘the boy with the arab strap’ by belle and sebastian.
> 
> i hope you all enjoy chapter two!

It was a week later when Stuart came face to face again with the stranger that had gotten away. 

His father had berated him over dinner every single night, making Stuart feel even more useless than usual. Once his dad had left to do odd jobs in the shed, his mother would ruffle his hair and give him a sad smile, explaining that his father was simply just stressed about work or whatever other excuse she could come up with. Stuart knew she was just trying to make him feel better. Her pity didn’t make him feel like a functioning member of society, but he appreciated it either way. 

A lot of his daydreaming moments had turned in to ‘what if’s; what if he had caught that guy? Would his father finally show some pride again in having Stuart for a son? Maybe he would even take him out for a beer after their shift together and they could act like a normal family again. Stuart knew this was a little far fetched. They couldn’t return to happy families over a bag of £1 mix up, but he could at least dream about it. 

What if he had been hurt by the stranger? Stuart thought about how maybe he’d look handsome with a black eye and a couple bruises. Maybe the girls who visited the fairground would take pity on him and buy him a coke, or ask him out on a date. He could brag about how his dad wouldn’t make him pay for rides at the fairground, and they could ride the ferris wheel however many times they wanted.

Stuart shook his head when he heard his dad calling up to him from downstairs. They were leaving for work in five minutes, and unless Stuart wanted to walk to the fairground he was going to have to get a move on. 

He let out a sigh before shoving his feet in to the beaten up shoes he always wore. Stuart made sure to tuck the laces in to the sides again, before checking himself quickly in the mirror on his way out of the bedroom. He gave his mum a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye before he and his father were headed to the fairground. 

The ride seemed longer than usual. He could tell his father wanted to say something by the way he turned down the radio and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. Stuart made sure to keep himself out of any distracting thoughts. He didn’t want to upset his dad again by zoning out. His eyes shifted up to the older man when he heard him clear his throat and begin to speak. “Stu… You shouldn’t have chased that lad yesterday.”

Stuart hummed slightly in response, unsure of what his dad wanted him to say next. He thought about his dad telling him about the safety of chasing after criminals, and how he didn’t want his son to get injured, and how he was proud of him either way. This wasn’t the case. 

“It would’ve made more sense to report him to the blokes on security. Y’know, give a description. They could’ve kept an eye on him and done something.”

Stu nodded slightly, fiddling with his fingers that were sat on his lap. He didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe his dad would always see him as useless.

“Yeah…. I will if I see him again, dad… Sorry.”

David looked back at his son before letting out another sigh. He didn’t try to hide his disappointment.

“It’s fine, Stu. Just remember to do that next time, yeah?”

He parked the beaten up car in one of the muddy spots beside the fairground, before getting out. Stuart followed in pursuit, still as quiet as ever as he walked a few steps behind his dad. 

It was just after midday when the fairground began to pick up. Stuart enjoyed summers the most at the fairground. The music was always the best, and it was easier to fall in to a rhythm of work. He didn’t have to pay any attention to the world around him on days like these, which meant when he was met face to face with the same man he had failed to chase down a week previously, it felt like somebody had taken a track away from his train. He faltered slightly, before stuttering out a few words. “Y-you, eh… Can I, uh, see your ticket?” 

The reply to this question was simply just a laugh. Of course this guy didn’t have a ticket. He hadn’t bothered to pay for a bag of sweets and now he was expecting a free ride on the dodgems. He must’ve thought Stuart was the worlds biggest pushover. 

The stranger in question only flashed Stuart a half smile. It looked like these smiles were rare, and Stuart instantly took it all in. He could tell the line of people behind him weren’t too happy about the unusually long wait. 

“Just… Look, just stand to the side if you don’t have one. I gotta let these people on…”

To Stuart’s surprise, the other man happily complied. He stood beside Stuart and watched as he let a few more people on to the dodgems. Stuart clipped the barrier closed once the ride was full and pressed the button to turn it on, before turning his attention back to the criminal beside him. The others smile had faded. 

“I came back to say sorry. Ain’t usual that I say that to folk, so you better hold on to it. You hit the ground pretty hard the other day. Was worried you had knocked yourself out or somethin’.”

Stuart rolled his eyes hearing that. Had this guy seriously just come back to apologise? He narrowed his eyes down at the stranger. 

“I didn’t fall that hard. And I would’ve got you had I not fallen over my laces.” He was about to say something else when one of the workers stepped past them and told Stuart it was time for his break. He let out a sigh, eying the other, before the two of them stepped out off the dodgems stall and on to the grass beside it. The stranger stuck his hand out for Stu to shake. His hands were calloused and slightly smaller than Stuart’s own set. 

“Murdoc Niccals. I didn’t get your name.” 

“Stuart Pot.” 

He was hesitant as he shook Murdocs hand. This felt like some sort of deal with the devil. Stuart didn’t know if he was okay with being on first name basis with the man who was stealing from his family’s business. He liked it even less when he saw Murdoc’s smirk from the week previous appear again. Stuart had dreamt of it every night and every time he zoned out. That smirk had taunted him for all his failures, and now he was face to face with it again. 

“How long do you have for your break?”

“Half an hour.”

“Great. Let me buy you lunch.” 

Murdoc was quick to turn and weave in and out of the crowd. Even when there wasn’t any urgency, he looked like he was built to avoid people around him and blend in to the background. Stuart thought about how Murdoc was the perfect criminal type, and suspected that it wasn’t just £1 mix ups that he had a habit of stealing. 

Stuart kept close to Murdoc as the two of them wandered to one of the food stalls within the fairground. He wondered if Murdoc was actually capable of buying anything, or if it would yet again be another high speed chase. He was surprised when Murdoc ordered them both a plate of chips and handed over the cash for it. Stuart couldn’t help himself from smiling when he felt the familiar greasy warmth in his hands. 

The two of them silently wandered over to a more quiet area of the fairground and took a seat on a picnic bench that had been sat out for sunnier days. 

Stuart picked at his chips and occasionally looked over at the man across from him. He noticed the way Murdoc’s nose sat squint. It looked like it had been broken more times than he could count. Stuart wondered about all the trouble the other had gotten in to over the years. Murdoc definitely looked a lot older than him. You could see he had aged by the look in his eyes. He had definitely been around the block a couple of times. Stuart’s staring was cut short when he heard Murdoc speak.

“Is your hair always that blue?”

“Oh, uh… Yeah. Happened when I fell out a tree.”

“Course it did.” 

Murdoc decided not to question this. It seemed like it would take Stuart too long to explain, and he didn’t care enough to get a list of accidents that the other had gotten in to. Murdoc could tell Stuart was a walking accident magnet. His legs were far too long for his body and he always seemed to have an empty stare. Stuart was simply happy that for once somebody hadn’t questioned the science behind his accident. 

“Why’d you come back? And ask me to lunch of all things…”

“Thought you’d want somebody other than dirt ‘n’ dust to eat.”

Stuart rolled his eyes at that. 

“Shut up..” 

He wasn’t in the mood to be teased and taunted about his failed attempt at catching Murdoc. He had gotten enough shit off his dad for letting him get away. Murdoc gave him a half smile. He had taken pity on Stuart, but more importantly he had heard the older woman at the stall talking to Stuart about his keyboard playing. He wanted to know if Stuart was as good as she had said.

“That old bird mentioned you can play keyboard, and I’m in need of a keyboard player.” Murdoc leaned forward as he dropped the proposition on the table for Stuart. “Don’t you want to do something with your life other than play about at a fairground everyday?”

Stuart shrugged slightly at that. In all honesty, he did want more. But he also didn’t know if he was made for whatever ideas Murdoc had. 

“Isn’t getting in to the music industry kind of difficult?”

It was Murdoc’s turn to shrug in response. He had no clue if they would ever make it big. He just knew he had to make something and get it out there. 

“I’m not saying drop it all instantly. I’m just saying help with a couple songs and we can see how it goes. Play a couple gigs. Hell, Stu. Just play a couple notes for me.” 

Stuart nodded at that before slumping in to himself. His chips had gone soggy and cold from the ketchup on them. Somehow they were even more unappetising than before. He picked at them for a couple of minutes, avoiding all conversation of a band. You had to be good looking to be in a band; you had to have style and confidence. Stuart was the complete opposite, and yet… He felt like he had to say yes to Murdoc. As if it was fate. 

Murdoc produced a pen from his pocket before scrawling a few words on a clean part of the paper tray that had contained his chips. He slid it over to Stuart, before getting up from the bench they had been sat at. 

“If you’re free tomorrow night, then come over. That’s my address there. We can have a couple drinks, figure something out…” 

Murdoc didn’t want to wait for an answer. Secretly, he was afraid Stuart would say no and his dreams of stardom would fall flat like they had hundreds of other times. 

He slid the pen back in to his pocket before wandering over to the exit of the funfair. 

Stuart stared at the address for a few moments before his slender fingers swiped it off the bench and he pocketed it in the back of his jeans.


	3. Sign On.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!
> 
> massive thank u to the people who have read the story so far! especially to those who have left kudos and comments. it means the world to me to know that ur all enjoying my work!!!
> 
> as i’ve said before, you can find me in between chapters on instagram @/face.aches! you’ll (maybe) be happy to know i’m a cosplayer (if that sweetens the deal for you) so if you want to support my visual work you can find it there!
> 
> this chapter’s title is ‘sign on’ by rat boy.
> 
> stay safe!!

Stuart arrived at Murdocs flat at exactly 8pm the following evening. He held a heavy keyboard under one arm, and a 4 pack of cheap beer in the other hand. He felt nervous about spending time with somebody outside of work. It had felt like forever since he had last spent time with anybody other than his mum and dad. After he had dropped out of school, and his friends had all finished with their exams and moved on to greener pastures, Stuart had felt isolated. Many of them now had full time jobs or were off in other cities studying god knows what. The most he had spoken to somebody was when his dad gave him tellings off and his mum tried to make him feel better afterwards. 

What did people even talk about when they had drinks? He shook the thought out of his head, before awkwardly knocking on the door with his full hands. Stuart waited patiently for a few moments, but Murdoc never came to answer the door. 

He was mid second knock when Murdoc finally appeared in front of him. His hair was dripping wet and he had a towel lazily slung around his waist. Murdoc couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he saw the clumsy sight of Stuart in front of him. He was definitely something else, Murdoc had to give him that. He eyed the beers that Stuart held in his hand. At least he had come bearing gifts. 

Stuart gave the other a half nervous smile before handing the 4 pack over to his new friend. His mum had always told him that if he was invited to homes, it was polite to bring a gift along with him to say thank you. 

“Sorry, I dunno what you usually drink so I got the ones my dad likes.”

“Beer is beer.”

Murdoc stood to the side to let the other enter the flat. Stuart faltered slightly, before realising what that social cue meant. He tripped over his own feet as he stumbled in to the flat, banging his battered keyboard against the doorframe on the way in. Stuart spun on his heels once inside the hallway and shot Murdoc another uncoordinated smile. Murdoc once again found himself rolling his eyes at the gangly boy stood in front of him. Everything about Stuart made him stand out like a sore thumb within the flat. Where the walls were an off cream colour and everything sat out of place, Stuart stood like a lost puppy in his horrifically bright tie dye t-shirt and tattered red converse. 

Stuart peered through one of the doorways in to what he could only guess was the living room. He studied the worn in furniture for a few moments before turning his attention back to Murdoc. Somehow even in the hellhole that was Murdoc Niccals’ flat, Stuart was his usual ray of sunshine self.

“It’s a nice place ya have here.”

“Don’t kid yourself. Living room’s in there.”

Murdoc pointed his finger in to the room that had recently taken Stuart’s attention. He followed the others finger back in to it, noting how long Murdoc’s nails were. They were painted a midnight black colour and seemed to be the only delicate thing about the other man. Stuart smiled at that, before dipping in to the small sized living room and taking a seat by the couch. He sat the old keyboard on his lap and tapped at a few of the keys whilst Murdoc went off to get changed in to actual clothes instead of the towel he had been sporting. 

When he returned to Stuart’s side, he noticed that the others attention had been taken by the dirty fish tank in the corner of the room. Stuart tapped on the glass and quietly spoke to the little creature inside. Murdoc couldn’t believe that a teenage boy could be this kind. He had been so used to rough men in his life. Stuart really was a breath of fresh air in his dirty city mind.

“Her name’s Lucy.”

“Like The Beatle’s song?”

This made Stuart smile. Sure, The Beatles were a classic band, but he had pegged Murdoc for somebody who was in to harder music. ‘Real music’ is often what he would overhear from the leather clad men who visited the fairground with their wives and girlfriends. 

“What? No, not the sodding Beatles. Short for Lucifer.”

Stuart kept his eyes on the little goldfish as she swam around her tank. Of course it was short for Lucifer. What else would he expect from a man who opened doors whilst only in a towel and stole £1 mix ups from family run fairgrounds. His head wandered as he watched her go round and round the same fake plastic plant that was wedged inside the bowl. Surely she knew she was stuck there for the rest of her life. How hadn’t she gotten bored of such a small tank?

He looked back at Murdoc when he heard the other shift beside him. Murdoc had wandered over to the couch and was now sat with a bass guitar in his hands. Stuart took this as his cue to start on whatever Murdoc had invited him over for. He found himself on the old leather couch beside Murdoc, his keyboard sat on his lap again.

“So, uh… Songs.”

Murdoc looked up from where he was fiddling with tuning his bass. He let out a grunt, before nodding over to the scratched coffee table that sat in front of them. On top of the table sat a pile of notebooks and loose sheets of paper. Stuart leaned over towards the table, careful not to drop his keyboard in the process, and grabbed a handful of notebook and papers. He shuffled through some of them, carefully reading the scrawled lyrics that had been penned. Murdoc’s writing was absolutely atrocious. Stuart could barely make out half of the words, and the ones he could he didn’t particularly like. It wasn’t that Murdoc’s ideas were bad, it was that he lacked the delicacy and penmanship of a skilled writer. Stuart hadn’t thought much about his own work being good, but it was a hell of a lot better than what Murdoc had put down. 

“My doctors notes have more emotion than this… I need a pen.”

Murdoc looked like he was about to swipe at Stuart for the insult, but seemed to rethink the idea and instead shifted to grab the pen that was in his back pocket. He threw it in the general direction of Stuart, hitting him on the side of the head. One of Murdoc’s rare smiles appeared at the sound of the smack and he let out a low chuckle to himself.

Stuart took no notice of the pleasure Murdoc had gotten out of indirectly hitting him, and instead took to a blank sheet of paper in one of the notebooks. He flipped back and forward with the lyrics Murdoc already had, trying to salvage what he could out of the wreckage the other had wrote. 

Murdoc busied himself with a bottle of beer that Stuart had brought for them. He popped the cap off with his teeth and took large gulps from it, grimacing slightly at the bitter aftertaste it left on his tongue. He was about to insult Stuart’s choice in beer when the notebook was slid in to his hand. Stuart’s much neater handwriting stood out against the scribbles Murdoc had left on the paper. His eyes carefully scanned the lyrics Stuart had written down. 

‘I'm useless but not for long  
The future is coming on…’

He smiled as he read over the same two lines that Stuart had written. Murdoc grabbed the pen off of his friend and circled them, before handing the notebook back to Stuart. 

“Maybe you ain’t so useless after all. I think you might be on to something.”

Stuart couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he heard Murdoc’s praise. For once in his life he had been commended for doing something right. Stuart was quick to scribble down a few notes on to the piece of paper beside the lyrics he had written, before focusing his attention to his keyboard. He fiddled around with the settings as he spoke. 

“I was thinkin’… I’ve played about with this little tune a couple times. Maybe it’ll work.”

Stuart tapped a few of the keys over and over. It was repetitive, but it was also catchy. Murdoc couldn’t help but tap along with his foot as Stuart played around with the melody. The more his confidence grew, the more he added to the song, and soon a whole verse had appeared. Murdoc had powered through the beers Stuart had brought for them, his words slurring slightly as he attempted to sing along. Stuart couldn’t help but tense when he heard how gravelly Murdoc’s voice sounded. He thought for a moment, before taking the lead again with the song and singing along to what he had written. 

Murdoc was instantly stopped in his tracks when he heard Stuart’s voice. He knew the boy could play keys, but he damn well didn’t know how great Stuart could sing. For once in his life Murdoc had been silenced. He adored how confident Stuart had become in the short time they had spent together that evening. He looked as if he had been built to be on stage. Stuart was a natural performer, and Murdoc knew instantly he needed his talent for their music to succeed. He couldn’t just do it with some of Stuart’s help, he needed all of him. 

Stuart faltered when he realised that Murdoc was staring at him wide eyed. His fingers slid off the keys before he fell in to silence. He feared he had upset Murdoc by taking charge of the song, and that he would be yelled at for doing so. Stuart let out a soft apology, before settling on staring at the notebook that sat in between the two of them and wringing his hands together. He sat nervously waiting on the yelling to start.

Stuart was surprised when he felt a clap on the back and a room temperature beer thrusted in to his hands. He happily accepted the drink, before taking a small sip from it. He couldn’t believe his dad could drink something so vile. Maybe that’s why he was always in such a foul mood.

Murdoc had another rare half smile as he sat up on the couch, still staring at Stuart. 

“I didn’t mean for ya to stop. Can’t believe how good your voice is… And I thought I was all the talent and the brains here. I really got to give you some credit.”

Stuart’s cheeks and ears were dusted red from the compliment. Or maybe it was the cheap booze getting to him. Either way, he couldn’t help but feel proud of what he had created. Was Murdoc flattering him, or was he really that good at music? Stuart decided not to overthink the doubts in his head. He had lived a life full of constant criticism. For once it felt good that somebody could appreciate his work. 

Stuart took another drink from the bottle. The emptier it got, the more relaxed he became around Murdoc. It didn’t take long for Stuart to find himself cross legged, knees brushing against Murdoc’s as the two of them chatted between one another. When Murdoc wasn’t trying to prove himself to be something he wasn’t, he was rather down to earth and Stuart found it was easy to get along with him. Somehow it felt even more natural than it had done with his mates from school. 

The guys he had grown up with had little to no ambition. The majority of them knew that they would find work in their family businesses and therefor hadn’t really planned that far in the future, and spent the majority of their time instead joking about and talking about menial shit like girls and cars. Stuart was glad to be included in their fun, and was surprised to find how popular he was amongst the boys, but he had always wanted to do something more than drive a fast car and work for his dad. Stuart wanted to see the world. He wanted to travel and experience other cultures and meet knew people. Of course, he hadn’t ever told anybody this. He knew he would’ve had the shit ripped out of him by some low life if he had started sprouting about his dreams. 

Somehow, despite how different the two of them were, he and Murdoc related to each other on that same level of always having dreams but feeling as if they didn’t have a way of achieving them. For once, they both had somebody who could understand them. For Murdoc, it was refreshing to have a friend who knew what he was thinking. For Stuart, he was simply glad to feel normal for once. 

Stuart was in the middle of thinking of something else to say when he was cut off by Murdoc’s announcement. 

“I want you to join my band.”

Stuart fell silent again as he sat down his now empty beer bottle. His old closed in demeanour returned when he realised what Murdoc had said. Stuart knew it in himself that he wasn’t made for fame. He was stupid; he struggled to hold conversations. He could barely even tie his shoes on a good day! He shook his head slightly before placing his hands in his lap. 

“You said you just wanted me to help with a couple songs.”

“That was before I heard ya sing.”

“Murdoc, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

What would his parents say if he told them he had joined a band? His dad would be furious. His mother would think he had hit his head even harder than the last time. And what if they wanted to meet his fellow band mate? Murdoc Niccals wasn’t exactly the type of guy to take home to meet your parents. He was gruff, a loud mouth, and a criminal. His thoughts were cut short when he realised Murdoc was speaking to him. 

“Oi, the lights are on but nobody’s home.” Stuart leaned back slightly before shoving Murdoc’s hand out of the way when he realised it was waving in front of him. “Right, back to what I was saying. My old mate told me that if I got something sorted in the next few weeks, a couple songs, then I could play at one of his bars. He owns pubs and clubs all over England. Even in London. If we’re good, and we play London, we’ll meet some hot shot producer and get signed. Easy!”

Stuart frowned slightly to himself. He rubbed his forehead, feeling another one of his world famous headaches coming on. He shouldn’t have drank without taking his pills and now Murdoc’s talk of stardom was making his head spin. He reached in to his pocket to grab the pill bottle he always carried around before popping a few out and swallowing them dry. 

“And what if we’re shit, Murdoc?”

Murdoc rolled his eyes at that as he lay back against the couch again. He eyed Stuart for a moment before smirking to himself. 

“We won’t be. Cause I have you, ya little song bird.”


	4. Life’s a Beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!!
> 
> another huge thank you to everybody who’s supported the fic so far, it really does mean a lot to me!!
> 
> this chapters song is ‘Life’s a Beach’ by The Moon Kids. they’re a small rock band from the town i grew up in, and their music is absolutely amazing! it’s definitely worth checking out!!
> 
> as always you can find me on instagram @/face.aches!
> 
> stay safe!

It had been half a month since Murdoc first asked Stuart to join his band. They had spent almost all of their free time together since then, which didn’t add up to much considering Stuart had been working every shift humanly possible at the fairground. It was mid July, and the summer heat brought in waves of crowds every day. On top of that, he had slipped up and confessed his side project over dinner one evening. His parents didn’t approve of him spending time with somebody much older and who might take advantage of their poor and confused little boy, never mind Stuart throwing away his steady paying job to play music in grime bars and clubs.

His arguments with his father had increased so much that Stuart had invested in a bike to get to and from work. Biking meant he didn’t have to spend unnecessary car trips with his dad, and gave him time to think up more lyrics and melodies. Of course the majority of them had been forgotten by the time he reached pen and paper, but he liked to think the increased exercise wasn’t him running away from confronting his father. 

Even Murdoc had noticed how bitter and short tempered Stuart had become. For once, Murdoc was the one who seemed laid back and lighthearted. Stuart was drinking more frequently during their time together, almost always popping his painkillers, and burning through packets of cigarettes like they were sweets. He had suggested the two of them take a day trip away from Crawley whenever Stuart next had a day off work. He made it out as if some life experience on the road would aid them in writing music, but they both knew that Stuart could’ve done with a break away from his hometown to try and salvage whatever sanity he had left.

At the end of one of their regular band practise sessions, Stuart scribbled down his address for Murdoc. The other had said he was going to take Stuart out the next day and wanted him to be ready by midday. Stuart didn’t bother to hide his excitement. He felt like he had been waiting his whole life to leave Crawley, even if it was only for a couple of hours. He was even more excited to see Murdoc out of the setting that was his grimy apartment. 

Stuart was woken up early the next day by his alarm. He wanted to be ready in time for Murdoc picking him up. He knew the other didn’t like waiting, but more importantly he knew how his parents disapproved of their friendship and music making. He didn’t want his family coming face to face with Murdoc. Stuart knew it would only end in an argument, and his father would say something offensive or Murdoc would get violent. It wasn’t worth the time or energy for either party, and therefor Stuart wanted to avoid any and all confrontation.

He could hear Murdocs car before he could see it. It sounded as if a cat had been shoved in to a sack and shaken about, and that was only the god awful heavy metal that Murdoc was blasting out of the speakers. The exhaust coughed and spluttered like a heavy smoker, and the smoke coming out the back looked like a fire waiting to happen.

Stuart didn’t think twice about leaving the house without saying goodbye to his parents. He was quick to shut the door and jog down the pathway to Murdocs car. It was an old beaten up thing covered in dents and scratches. Stuart wondered if it was even safe to drive, but reckoned their day trip was much more important than assessing their transportation. 

Murdoc looked over at Stuart when the other sat in the passengers seat. He let his eyes linger for a few moments, figuring it was safe due to the dark sunglasses that he wore. Stuart was barely buckled in when Murdoc sped off out of the street and in the direction of the nearest motorway. The further they got from Stuart’s home and the more road signs that flew past them, the less he recognised the world around him. His slender fingers reached to turn down the volume button on the car radio. Once it had reached a level that Murdoc found appropriate, he swatted Stuart’s hand away and returned his own to the steering wheel. Stuart couldn’t help but sigh at Murdocs frosty behaviour. 

“Where are we going anyway?” His eyes watched as they passed by fields and turnings for service stations. 

“I told ya it’s a surprise. You’ll figure it out when we get there.” 

With that, Murdoc was already reaching to turn the volume back up on the radio, drowning out any other questions Stuart was ready to ask. 

It was only when they passed the ‘welcome to Brighton’ road sign that Stuart realised Murdoc was taking him to the beach. They had drunkenly talked about it one evening. Stuart told had told Murdoc all about how his parents had promised him every year that they would go to the beach during the summer, and how when the time rolled around they would be too preoccupied with work. The fairground was too busy for his dad to up and abandon for some silly trip, and his mum worked ridiculous hours as a nurse at the local hospital and was always too tired to take him.

It didn’t take Murdoc long to find a suitable spot for them to park the car. Stuart noticed when he got out that Murdocs definition of parked looked more like Stuart’s definition of abandoned, but he decided against bringing it up since the other had been kind enough to drive them down to Brighton for the day.

Despite Murdocs protesting, Stuart managed to convince him to walk past the little seaside stalls by the boardwalk before they settled on somewhere to sit. His eyes were wide and full of fascination when he saw the little nicknacks and trinkets that people had crafted for tourists. Murdoc kept his eyes low as the two of them walked together. He had been tempted a couple of times to swipe things that had caught Stuart’s eye, but decided against it. He didn’t want to upset his friend on their day out. 

He just about knocked Stuart over when the other suddenly stopped in front of one of the stalls. Murdoc was about to give him a hard shove and questioning as to why they were suddenly stationary, when he saw Stuart pointing at the captains hat on the table. Stuart was quick to hand over the cash and grab a hold of his new possession before Murdoc even had the chance to make fun of him for noticing the tacky item.

Stuart waited until they were settled on the sand before he slipped the hat on to Murdocs head. He couldn’t help but laugh when he saw Murdoc sat with his sunglasses and sailing accessory. 

“See, now you look like a right leader.”

“Sod off you moron and pass me one of the beers.”

He waved his hand in the general direction of where he had thrown his bag. Stuart reached in and pulled out two bottles, before handing one over to Murdoc. They had made sure to find a quieter spot on the beach away from screaming kids and their parents who would judge the two of them for day drinking in public. Murdoc yet again popped the cap with his teeth before taking a large swig from the bottle. Every time he done it, it sent shivers down Stuart’s spine. Stuart happily stuck to the bottle opener that was on his keychain. 

“Y’know you’re gonna end up breaking your teeth if you keep doing that.”

“Good. Means I don’t have to pay for the dentist.”

Stuart gave him a playful shove hearing that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t do a runner every time you visit.”

“Are you calling me tight? Didn’t even ask for petrol money and you’re calling me cheap. Thanks, Stu.”

“You’re welcome.”

Stuart smirked to himself as he leaned back on his elbow. He was still surprised that Murdoc had even remembered him mentioning how badly he wanted to go to the beach. Murdoc always tried to act as if he was tougher than nails, but Stuart knew deep down that there was a good person in there somewhere. He had learned that you just had to be patient with Murdoc. He wasn’t so rough and tough once you got to know him. 

Stuart finished the beer he had in his hand before setting the empty bottle down on the sand and sitting up again. It wasn’t long before he had removed his socks and shoes and abandoned them. He buried his feet and wiggled his toes in the sand. Stuart took in the sensation for a few moments before shoving himself in to a standing position and brushing the grains off that had stuck to his jeans. 

“‘M gonna go down to the water. Wanna come?”

“Not in Hell’s chance. Don’t let the whales get ya.”

“Piss off, Muds.”

The older man couldn’t help but chuckle at that as he watched Stuart awkwardly wander down to the water. He lost his footing a couple times and slid about in the sand before he finally reached the waves. Murdoc was simply happy just to sit back in the sun and watch Stuart as he wandered about in the ocean. He only let the water go up to his calves, so his jeans didn’t get wet, but he seemed happy enough. It had been a while since Murdoc had witnessed such pure happiness from somebody. He had lived such a bitter and cold life that he had forgotten the joys of seeing somebody else genuinely smile. He was happy that he could bring that feeling to Stuart. 

The longer he watched his friend kick about in the water, the more he realised that maybe life wasn’t so bad. Surely if he could get pleasure out of watching some blue haired idiot getting his feet wet then he could stop acting so miserable all the time and start to realise that things around him weren’t too awful. He let his thoughts consume him as he opened another beer and began to drink it. 

It had felt like a lifetime since Murdoc had last had a friend. Even in school he had spent the majority of his days alone. Maybe Stuart truly was his first proper friend. Stuart had brought so much happiness in to his life in such a short time and Murdoc had found himself wanting to be around the other as much as possible. He felt ridiculous thinking about how safe and human he felt around Stuart, and how he felt like they had connected so deeply despite their short time in knowing each other. 

Stuart listened to him. On bad days, the boy would say stupid things and think up stories to make Murdoc laugh. He was the first person who not only fully supported his music, but also wanted to see Murdoc succeed in what he did. Stuart wanted to be there for Murdoc; for the good and the bad. Stuart’s soul brought a kindness that Murdoc had never experienced from anybody before. They were best friends, they had each others backs and knew each other inside out. Murdoc had thanked fate every night when he first met Stuart. He was the good in the world that Murdoc had been so desperate to experience first hand. 

Murdoc let out a sigh as he leaned back on his elbow. The more his thoughts consumed him, the more he realised that maybe he didn’t want to just have a friend. Stuart had stayed the night a few times. He always agreed to sleep on the couch, but they’d get drunk and the two of them would stumble off to bed together. Of course nothing other than sleeping ever happened. Sure, Murdoc had a fair share of sexual experiences, but he didn’t want to jump in to something with somebody that for once actually meant something important to him. 

Murdoc would wake up with the younger man tangled in his arms. Stuart would always apologise when he realised he hadn’t slept on the couch, and leave soon after to start his shift at the fairground. 

When Murdoc wrote new lyrics he always thought of how Stuart would look when he was singing them or trying to fit them along with the melody. He liked the way the other would stick his tongue out and scrunch up his eyebrows. He liked when Stuart’s head focused on lyrics and melodies and he would mumble out to ask for a cup of tea, too afraid to take his mind off the work in front of him in case he lost his momentum. He liked when Stuart would retell Murdoc whatever latest movie or cartoon he had seen. Stuart’s passion was important to him, even if Murdoc did like to make fun of him.

Murdoc pulled the captains hat further down his head. His beer was already empty again and he seemed to be attempting to drink himself out of his thoughts. He was comfortable when it came to sex. Murdoc had been around and experienced more than he would like to admit, but it always ended in the morning when he would sneak out from whoever’s house he had stayed at the night before. He and Stuart had only ever slept beside each other, and yet he felt more of a connection during the mundane moments like their knees brushing or simple eye contact than he had done in his entire sexual history. Stuart really did mean more to him than a friend, and Murdoc was beginning to hate himself for it.


	5. You’re So Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello again!!
> 
> sorry for my week long disappearing act, isolation is really doing a number on my old head but luckily i am back with more storyline to fill ur brains!
> 
> some tw for this chapter; brief mentioned homophobia, brief mentioned past abuse. it’s not a lot but it’s mentioned so i thought i’d best add a warning!
> 
> as always u can find me on instagram @/face.aches. believe it or not i’m actually a (kind of not) amazing cosplayer! if u have any questions about the fic or just wanna pop on over for a chat to say hi (please i am so lonely), then you’re best finding me there!
> 
> this chapters title is You’re So Great by Blur. it’s an amazing song that i usually put on when i’m writing said fic, and it’s given me a lot of inspiration!
> 
> again a huge thank u to everybody who’s given me support on this so far!! u all really do mean the world to me!

Stuart had managed to get another night off of work a few day’s after their beach trip. It was the only thing that occupied his mind. Despite Murdoc’s bitter attitude to the world, Stuart felt he had been missing the other man his entire life. He was touched that Murdoc had remembered his fondness for the beach, and even more that the man had planned a whole day trip there for the two of them and surprised Stuart with it. 

Stuart’s warmth for the other was beginning to show in his writing. Before the trip, his lyrics were angry. He had hated almost everything in his life and was desperate to get out of Crawley. His parents didn’t understand him; his dad thought he was a moron and his mother coddled and babied him as if he was still a young child. Where once he had enjoyed the repetitive nature of his work, he now loathed how monotonous it had become. Stuart wanted to see the world; he wanted to experience life first hand, and he wanted to do it with Murdoc. 

Every time Stuart lay awake at night dreaming of touring the world, playing music for thousands of fans, and drinking until sunlight, he always saw Murdoc beside him. Even when the other was in a bad mood, he was always right beside Stuart in his dreams. Sometimes on nights when he felt most lonely, usually after loud crashing arguments with his dad, he would lay alone in his bed and think of all the times he and Murdoc had shared a bed together. He hated to admit it but he longed for those nights more than any of the music or travelling. Life was anything but mundane or domestic with Murdoc Niccals, but those small fractions of moments they spent together, comfortable in the silence of one another, was better than anything Stuart had ever experienced. Even when their time together was filled with loud music, clanking of bottles, and voices battling to be heard, Stuart felt like he had struck gold. No matter the mood, he was truly happy around Murdoc. He wanted to experience all of life with him; the good and the bad.

Being beside Murdoc made him feel alive. Murdoc was what he had always dreamt of and wished for. He was the key to unlocking Stuart’s life outside of Crawley.

What Stuart didn’t know was that Murdoc felt the same.

Murdoc was 31 now. He felt as if his life was ending, and that he had lived none of it. He grew up in a shitty household, with shitty family, in a shitty town. His mum had skipped out on him right after he was born, and his father and older brother had resented him for it. All his life he had been bullied, beaten, and berated for simply just existing. Stuart was the first person that had treated him like a human with something to offer the world. His warm, sunshine view despite his own home troubles was foreign to Murdoc’s depressive outlook on the world around him. Everything had been grey until Stuart painted colour in to his life. Murdoc didn’t want to be the bad guy anymore. He wanted to be happy, all thanks to Stuart.

Sure, getting the band big and seeing the world would be a dream come true, but Murdoc was happy enough to simply live in the small moments with Stuart. He had even grown fond of the shitty horror movies Stuart insisted on watching after band practise. Murdoc had originally hated them and had dragged Stuart to hell and back for his taste in film, but he soon found love in those hours spent together when one night the other had fallen asleep cuddled up to Murdoc’s side. Not even his one night stands would stay long enough to give Murdoc the affection he had so rarely experienced in life. Having Stuart close to him made Murdoc feel as if he was finally home. It made him feel safe, but his inner conscience hated him for it. 

It had taken Murdoc his entire life to build up the concrete walls around him. He never let anybody in to see the softer, more vulnerable side of him no matter who they were. He didn’t trust anybody. The traumas of his past had created a cold shell of a man. He wasn’t going to drop his guard at the taste of fame, but Stuart was beginning to become more important to him than getting big. 

Murdoc hadn’t ever felt this way about anybody in his life before. He was scared that like everybody else, Stuart would end up hating him. That he would fuck up and drive away the only person that had ever shown him kindness. On top of that, he could hear the voices of his past digging in to his skull for having these emotions and feelings for another man. He had grown up in different times, it was barely acceptable to show positive emotions towards women, never mind other men. He could hear his family’s past torment any time he got too close to Stuart. Every night he lay awake thinking about his friend, he could feel the past beatings from his brother and father hitting his skin. He hadn’t lived back home in well over a decade, and yet their treatment towards Murdoc still stuck by him almost every day. With his love for Stuart came pain from everybody else around him who had meant to love and support him as a child and teen.

Murdoc didn’t want to go back to that hellish headspace, and yet he was so desperate to feel the warmth of Stuart Pot by his side.

Stuart again turned up with his keyboard and cheap beers. He never bothered knocking anymore. Murdoc always left the front door open if he knew Stuart would be coming, and more than usually was dressed, unlike the first visit. Stuart sat himself down on the couch, already popping one of the beers open and gulping it down. 

He had brought his own song lyrics with him this time, and he was more than a bit nervous to show Murdoc what he had been writing. Usually Murdoc would write the lyrics and Stuart would rearrange them so they could fit in with melodies the two of them played around with, but his emotions had been bubbling up and he found the only way to safely get them out was to write them down, and so he had.

Murdoc was quick to grab his bass when he saw the familiar sight of blue hair on his couch. He threw himself to sit next to Stuart, before reaching over to grab one of the beers on the coffee table. 

“So then, Stu-Pot. What’ve you got this week.”

Stuart fumbled around inside his backpack for a few moments before finally producing the tattered black notebook that he had been writing in. It was covered in ripped and water damaged stickers and doodles on the outside. Inside it held the working contents of Stuart’s brain. This was everything he had thought and felt since first meeting Murdoc, all funnelled in to sweet song lyrics. 

Of course, Stuart would never admit they were about Murdoc. Had his parents found out he reckoned he would’ve been kicked out of the house, or worse. He would have to stay living in the hell they created for him. It wasn’t that they weren’t supportive, they just grew up in different times and they wanted what they thought was best for Stuart. Not to mention Murdoc was definitely not the type of guy you could bring home to meet your folks. It seemed almost impossible to love somebody like him, but Stuart felt more than love. He felt emotions for Murdoc that he never thought he’d be able to describe. They were things he hadn’t ever felt before and that constantly swirled his head in confusing motions and patterns like fireworks racing in the night sky.

Stuart was silent as he opened up the book and flicked through some of the pages. He tried to look for safer options so that Murdoc wouldn’t tease and question who he had a crush on. Stuart didn’t want the embarrassment, and he was an awful liar. 

He finished off the bottle of beer he held before setting it down on the table beside them. 

“None of it’s, uh, finished… Just some ideas I had floating around. I ain’t used to writing proper things.”

“Right. Well, on you go.”

Stuart stopped on a page that he felt was safe enough. He handed it over to Murdoc, letting his own fingers skim along the words that stood out most to him as he spoke them to his friend. 

“I was thinking maybe something like ‘if loving you’s a felony now then i’m a renegade’. Or I like ‘I will always think about you’. It’s simple but… It’s nice.”

Murdoc nodded slightly before clearing his throat. It sounded like Stuart was trying to write something sweet, but he was too surrounded by bitterness to get it out. Murdoc let Stuart flick through the pages again before they landed on another one. He kept silent as he let Stuart spoke. 

“Or there’s ‘I survived, I got drunk, i’m sorry, will I lose you?’ I dunno if they’re any good..”

Stuart shrugged to himself. He definitely wasn’t drunk enough to be sitting this close to Murdoc and letting him in to his deep, inner thoughts. Stuart hadn’t ever felt this vulnerable in his entire life. He let his eyes match Murdoc’s for a few moments, before clearing his throat again and forcing a smile. 

“You got anything stronger than this piss my dad drinks?”

Murdoc was quick to peel himself off of the couch and stumble in to the kitchen. He had been drinking way before Stuart had turned up, but a lifetime of the habit made it easier to hide. He soon came back with a bottle of off brand vodka and two tall glasses. Murdoc sat down again on the couch, closer to Stuart than he had planned, and was quick to pour them both a large glass. He was surprised to see Stuart unfazed as he gulped down the drink. He knew the other could handle a few beers, and maybe even a couple shots, but he didn’t take him to be this skilled with spirits.

They were a glass and a half in each when Murdoc finally found the courage to speak. He could feel the heat of the moment clouding his head as he looked up at Stuart. All the love in the world was held in his eyes. Murdoc was afraid he was about to be heartbroken, and yet he didn’t even know if he was ready for what Stuart could’ve given him. Murdoc didn’t know if he would ever be ready for that kind of love. 

“It’s… All romantic sounding…”

Stuart shrugged slightly to himself. His insides burned from the vodka, and his head was hazy from the mix of painkillers. He was so desperate to be honest with Murdoc, but he feared he would drive him away with how he felt. He knew Murdoc was far from the romantic type. He was fragile, and could barely function even on a good day, yet he had already shown Stuart so much of what the world could be and how life could be lived. For once Stuart felt like a human adult. He belonged beside Murdoc, he just didn’t know how to tell him. 

“Yeah… It’s just whatever’s going on up here I guess.” 

He gently tapped on the side of his head. Stuart only realised how close they were sat together when he felt Murdoc shift beside him. Their knees knocked together, causing the two of them to look up at one another. Stuart could see the slight red flush on Murdoc’s cheeks from the alcohol he had been drinking. That same red was in his own eyes from the tiredness of working constantly at the fairground and the many sleepless nights he had found himself experiencing since meeting Murdoc. 

Murdoc couldn’t believe himself when he saw the world in Stuart’s ocean blue eyes. They matched his hair perfectly. His eyes made him think of what it would be like to float lonely in the deep, endless vast that was space, and spot Earth spinning hundreds of miles away. So far, yet so close to home.

Stuart was surprised when he saw Murdoc push himself up with his hands and wander in to the kitchen, mumbling something about getting them both water. Stuart nodded in agreement and followed behind like a lost puppy. He hoped his embarrassment wasn’t too obvious. He couldn’t face looking at Murdoc after their close encounter, and instead let his eyes wander around the cramped kitchen. His focus was soon set on a small, battered radio beside the fridge. Stuart hesitated slightly before flicking the power on. He fiddled around with the wobbly dials before reaching a late night show playing soothing, slow songs.

A glass of water was quickly placed in his hands and Stuart gulped it down like his life depended on it. He was thankful for the coolness that brought him back to reality. Stuart soon found himself humming along to the radio. It was one he had heard a few times when his mother had been in the kitchen playing the radio whilst doing odd jobs. He set the empty glass down on the countertop, before reaching an outstretched hand to Murdoc. 

Murdoc couldn’t help but smirk slightly when he realised what Stuart was asking him to do. He set the glass of water down and crossed his arms over his chest in a playful move of self defence. 

“Are you really asking me to dance?”

“‘Course I am.”

“I ain’t exactly the dancing type, Stu.”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking.”

He let out a huff, still pretending that it was the worst idea in the world, before reaching to take Stuart’s hand in his own. It wasn’t long before they found their arms around each other’s waists as they slowly swayed to the slow melody playing on the crackled speakers. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two men in each other’s arms.

“You said you ain’t the dancing type... But here you are, dancing. I think you’re more than what you show the world...” 

Stuart found his head fit perfectly on top of Murdoc’s shoulder, as long as he didn’t mind the smell of cheap cologne. Murdoc couldn’t get over how soft Stuart’s own hair was when he rested his chin on top of the others head. 

He hadn’t ever felt this peaceful in his entire life. 

When the song ended, Stuart was the first to pull away from Murdoc. He flashed him a half smile laden with sleep, before speaking in a soft voice. 

“I don’t think I can cycle home like this… ‘N it’s late, so I can’t call my parents…”

“Stu, it’s fine. I was gonna offer for you to stay anyway.”

“Cool, yeah…”

Stuart gave the other a small nod of thanks. Murdoc went about clearing up the bottles and glasses whist Stuart took a seat on the couch and pulled off his old trainers. He was about to take off his hoodie when he felt Murdoc take a hold of his wrist. 

“Come on, you’ve slept in my bed enough times before. No point moving to the dog house now.”

He led Stuart off to his bedroom like he had done many times before. It wasn’t long before the two of them found themselves fast asleep, tangled up in one another’s limbs. 

When Stuart woke in the morning, the clock told him he was already half an hour late for his shift at the fairground. He knew he would be in deep shit with his parents, and there was no way he would get out of it this time.


	6. You Know What I Mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!
> 
> first things first, sorry for my huge absence the past few weeks! my little brain can only work so hard and it had decided to give up and rest for a little while, but alas i’m back with a new chapter!
> 
> this chapters title is You Know What I Mean by Cults. they’ve had a huge inspiration on this fic, and i usually only ever listen to them whenever i’m writing!
> 
> again, if you ever have any questions or just want to say hi then you can find me on instagram @/face.aches! i’m a cosplayer as well, so you can see more of my work there!
> 
> tw for this chapter is mentions of homophobic language! 
> 
> thank you for all your support so far! the end is so near, and yet we still have so much more to go!
> 
> stay safe!

Stuart had been yelled at the second he had gotten home from his shift at the fairground. He knew it was a long time coming; he had been slacking off at work, focusing more on his writing and spending time with Murdoc, and now he had turned up late for his shift on one of the busiest days of the year. The disappointment in his mother’s eyes mixed with the anger in his fathers voice made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to crawl in to bed, feeling another migraine kicking at his skull due to the tense situation within the house, but his dad was quick to grab him by his collar and drag him to the dining table. 

On the old dining table was sat Stuart’s battered up notebook, open on one of the pages were he had wrote about Murdoc. Stuart’s eyes scanned over it for a moment in confusion. It took him a few moments to realise that one of his parents had found the notebook and read through what he had written. The notebook practically served as Stuart’s brain; it held every single thought and feeing inside it. By the way his parents looked at him, he knew what was about to happen. 

He was sat down in one of the chairs whilst his mum silently made a cup of tea and his father paced back and forward. Stuart had decided to try and block out most of the yelling, but he would occasionally catch the tail end of sentences. No matter how many times he had fucked up in his life, his parents had always been there to support him. Now they were cold and hostile towards their only son. The words he heard his father speak shattered his heart in an instant. 

“Useless moron… Fucking about with some older guy… Giving up decent work to be some stupid musical faggot.”

Stuart felt his nails drag against the old wooden table when he picked up on what his father was saying. His head clouded over in a flurrying storm of sick confusion and shock. He couldn’t believe his own father could say such things to him. It was even worse that his mother stood by silently and accepted the words that her husband had chosen to say to their son. These people were meant to love him unconditionally, even when he made stupid mistakes, and especially when he was finally discovering what his place was in the world.

Defeat had taken over in Stuart’s mind. Maybe his parents were right. He couldn’t find it in himself to argue back. No matter what his father would yell at him, however harsh it was, Stuart knew he couldn’t disagree. And yet, despite the harsh words and threats from his father, he still found himself wanting to find comfort in the man he was being punished for spending time with. 

Stuart was quick to rise from the chair. He pushed it back, before turning quick on his heels and storming up to his bedroom. The slamming door rattled the old house like a storm. It hurt even more that nobody had chased after him. The battle had only begun, but Stuart knew he was going to lose right from the start. His parents had already made up their mind.

He grabbed an old gym bag that had never been used for its intended purposes, and began gathering up clothes and belongings. Stuart could barely see past the stinging tears that were forming in his eyes. The fistfuls of old electronics and colourful clothes whizzed past as he shoved them inside the bag. Once it was full to the brim and barely able to zip, he slung it over his shoulder and stormed down the stairs of the house.

He was met beside the front door by his father. The yelling had become silent now that Stuart had mastered being able to mute it. He watched the blazing anger in his fathers eyes as the other man screamed fury at him. In one last act of defiance, Stuart grabbed one of the family photos that had hung on the wall since he was a child. He looked it over for a few moments, noticing how happy and perfect they seemed in it. His mother was far less tired, his dad looked so much younger, and he was still brunette. He barely registered his arm coming up and back down with enough force to smash the photo frame in to a million splintering shards of glass. 

Stuart was quick to leave after that. His father had only spoken words, but he had turned it physical, and he feared that one of them would do something they’d never be able to fix..

He hopped on his bike with only one place in mind. 

Murdoc’s flat was only a half hour cycle from Stuart’s family house. He would’ve called it home, but it had lost that title after his father had used such words against him.

Stuart chained his bike up to one of the lampposts outside as he stumbled up the stairs to the flat. His legs felt weak from the peddling and he couldn’t see straight from his tears. He pressed the buzzer for a few seconds before Murdoc appeared in the now open doorway. 

Stuart’s eyes looked down at the older man, wide like dishes and spilling warm tears. Murdoc was quick to pull Stuart inside the flat, no questions asked, and in to his own arms. It was only then that Stuart broke down in to a pile of messy sobs and whimpers. Murdoc was quiet as he ran his fingers through Stuart’s hair. His nails gently brushed over the others scalp, soothing the other until he was finally silent. He hadn’t ever felt this safe in his life. Murdoc was the definition of home to him, and Stuart didn’t ever want to let go. 

It was Murdoc who pulled away first. He held Stuart by his shoulders and looked down at his tear stained face. His eyes had gotten red and irritated from the crying. Murdoc still saw the entire world inside of them, and his heart instantly melted at the sad sight in front of him. 

“Come on. Go sit on the couch and I’ll get us some drinks.”

Stuart nodded in agreement before silently padding over to the old worn down couch. He sat his bag on the floor before curling up in to himself on the cool leather. Murdoc returned a few moments later with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He took a seat close to Stuart and began pouring them both a glass. 

He could tell by the bag that Stuart would be staying for a little while. Murdoc decided not to question it. He knew his friend was fragile at the moment, and Murdoc wasn’t the best with words. Settling on a distraction rather than trying to fix his issues seemed like a safer idea. 

He handed Stuart one of the glasses before taking the other in to his own hand. 

It wasn’t long before the two men had a few glasses of vodka in their system. Stuart seemed to have perked up from his sorry state he had arrived in, and was trying to speak through sweet giggles and chuckles. He was desperate to go to a bar, and for once Murdoc was in agreement that the two of them deserved a night out together. 

“Sure, yeah. Let me pull on something nicer and we can head out wherever you want.”

He stumbled off to his room to get changed in to something other than an old ripped t-shirt and jogging bottoms. Stuart took this as his own cue to go off to the bathroom and change out of his work uniform. Luckily he had managed to pack something more suitable for a bar.

Once dressed and cleaned up, he moved in to the hallway where he patiently waited on Murdoc. The other didn’t take long to return to Stuart’s side and soon the two of them headed off in to town together. 

The thoughts of a bar were quickly thrown out of the window when Stuart’s eyes spotted the busy nightclub they were approaching. Murdoc was hesitant; he couldn’t remember the last time he had been to a club, and he was expecting a bit more of a quiet night. Despite his thoughts, he agreed to Stuart’s new plans. The boy had clearly gone through a lot and Murdoc just wanted to give him a good time to forget what had happened. 

Once inside, Stuart was quick to order a tray of shots for them. He slid the cash along the bar before happily pulling the tray towards himself. Murdoc had found a small booth behind the dance floor where they could drink in peace. Stuart easily manoeuvred his slender body through the crowd, twisting and turning between the dancing couples and groups of friends. He shot a sly smirk when he saw where Murdoc was sitting, before raising one hand up to point down at the tray of technicolored shots. 

Murdoc could only roll his eyes. The remixed pop songs were already driving him insane, and now Stuart was trying to fill him up on fruity liquor.

Stuart threw himself in to the seat beside Murdoc, the two of them now cuddled up on the sticky leather seating. Murdoc found himself smiling when he saw how giggly and silly Stuart had become from the previous drinks back at the flat. The boy was quick to pick up a bright pink shot and throw it back, nearly spilling it down his shirt. Murdoc repeated the action with a lemony yellow one. He grimaced at the sweet taste. He was more used to something bitter that came with a sting. 

Stuart was quick to down a few more shots. It wasn’t long before his legs were a wobbling mess. The rhythmic beat of the songs playing from the speakers demanded that he get up and dance. He grabbed at Murdoc’s arm, pleading for the other to join him on the dance floor. Murdoc was quick to shake his head in disagreement before attempting to pry Stuart’s death grip off of his arm. He would do anything to make the other man happy, except dancing. That was completely off the table. No matter how drunk he found himself he wouldn’t ever step foot on some grubby, sweaty dance floor. Especially not with another man. 

Stuart let out a whine before finally letting go in defeat. He sat back for a moment, watching the flashing lights bounce off the moving bodies in front of them. He was mesmerised by the sight in front of him and desperate to join in. 

“I’m gonna go up and dance for a bit. Come find me if you wanna join in, yeah?”

Murdoc nodded slightly in agreement before slumping back against the booth. He watched as Stuart finished off another couple shots. It wasn’t long before the tall blue haired boy found himself on the dance floor. 

Watching Stuart get lost to the music was heaven on earth for Murdoc. He looked as if he was in utter bliss as he swayed his hips and moved his arms to the beat of each song. Occasionally Stuart would glance back at his friend and throw him syrupy smiles or lazy waves, but these became lost when a pretty young girl found herself in Stuart’s arms. 

Murdoc attempted to hide his heartbreak when he saw Stuart sling his arm around her neck. He fiddled with one of the shot glasses in front of him before giving in and downing it. The attempt to drink himself out of his misery was soon lost when he realised the two of them were kissing on the dance floor together. If he squinted hard enough in the occasional darkness he could imagine himself beside Stuart. He tried replacing their hungry kiss with the softer, needier ones he would give his friend, but the attempt was futile. 

He could feel his chest tighten when their hands began to wander. Murdoc finished off the shots in front of himself before peeling his body off of the booth and stumbling out on to the dance floor. Stuart and the girl had become lost in the crowd, and it took him a few moments and bumping in to sweaty bodies for him to reach them. 

Murdoc found himself elbowing past a taller, more built lad in order to reach Stuart and the girl he had found himself wrapped up with. He only realised his mistake when he felt the guy push him in return, sending him stumbling in to his friend and the stranger. Stuart whined slightly when he realised Murdoc had interrupted their kiss, but was quick to let go when he saw the anger flash within his eyes. 

He shot a harsh snarl at the girl before turning on his heels and swinging his arm at the guy. He managed to land a punch against his cheek, but any other attempt at a hit was cut short when a meaty fist connected with his nose. 

Murdoc was used to getting his nose broken. It had happened countless times during his childhood and early adult years, but it still always caught him by surprise when he heard the crunch and could taste the blood running down the back of his throat. He stumbled backwards, finally splitting Stuart and the young girl up, and grabbed the blue haired boys arm. 

They didn’t have any time to run before security was on the dance floor. They were quickly grabbed by the arms and pulled out of the club. Murdoc and Stuart were pushed out with such force that they ended up on the damp concrete floor beneath them and told not to return that evening. 

It took Murdoc a moment to reorientate himself, and even longer to get to his feet. By the time he was stood up, Stuart had already smoked through half a cigarette. The innocent joy he had previously sported on the dance floor had melted away. With Stuart’s happiness gone, the world felt as if it was in black and white and so, so cold.

They walked through the now empty streets together in an attempt to try and return to Murdocs flat. His nose had finally stopped bleeding, but the shirt he wore was definitely stained beyond repair. 

Stuart was silent as he puffed away at the cigarette between his fingers. Murdoc stole occasional glances at him, each one breaking his heart. The cold moment had quickly sobered him up, and he felt as if he had to apologise for what he had done back at the club.

“Stu… I didn’t meant to ruin the night.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m serious. I was just trying to find you.”

“I said it’s fine. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“She seemed keen. What makes you say that.”

“Nothing ever works out. That’s what.”

Murdoc fell silent again hearing that. Deep down, he had hoped that it wouldn’t have worked out. He didn’t want to see Stuart with anybody else, and yet he was too afraid to do anything other than ruin his friends chances at some meaningless one night stand. 

The bitterness in Murdocs life had always kept him going. He knew he was a bad person from what the world around him had taught him, but it had always made him want to keep trying to make something of himself. Seeing the new found sadness in Stuart’s eyes made him want to, for once, try to be a better person. And yet, Murdoc was so scared at what might happen.

Murdoc was about to speak again when he heard a sniffle come from Stuart. The other had finally put out his cigarette, and was now keeping his hands busy by wiping away hot tears from his eyes. Murdoc was quick to stop them from walking any further. He reached up to take a gentle hold of Stuart’s wrists before leading his hands away from his face. His eyes lingered on the others baby blue set, drinking in every single emotion that Stuart dared to spill out. Even in the more serious moments like this, Murdoc was unsure of what to say to make things better. 

“… Are ya crying over a missed shag?”

Stuart couldn’t help but laugh through a sniffle at Murdoc’s cluelessness. He shook his head slightly before bringing his hands down to his sides. 

“No. I’m crying cause my dad kicked me out, and my mum didn’t try to stop him. She just sat there. She didn’t even try…”

“Guess that’s why you’re crashing on my couch… I was gonna say, it’s not exactly a 5 star hotel.”

“He got mad cause I was late to work. I tried to tell him I had just slept in at yours, but he wasn’t havin’ it. He said the band wasn’t ever gonna make it, n’ that I’m stupid for giving up my life for it…” Stuart was quick to wipe away the fresh tears that fell. “But I ain’t stupid. He always says I am… An’ he said worse earlier, too… God, I thought mum would’ve stuck up for me when he called me a faggot but she just sat there starin’ at me like I was some alien…” 

Murdoc fell silent again hearing that. The argument between Stuart and his parents reminded him so much of what he had gone through during his childhood. He knew Stuart’s father was nowhere near as bad as his own, and yet he still felt as if the world was crushing him from how upset Stuart’s pain made him. 

Murdoc was quick to pull Stuart in to a warm hug in an attempt to ease some of the pain that he was feeling. 

He wanted to hold the other close and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to kiss Stuart and wipe his tears and show him that there was some good still left in the world. He especially wanted to beat some sense in to the boys father for treating him in such a horrifically scarring way. 

Murdoc simply settled on rubbing small circles on to the others back until he felt Stuart’s tiredness creep in to his head. 

“C’mon mate… Lets get you home…”

“What if he’s right? What if this is all a waste, and we don’t make it?”

“It’s okay, Stu. We’ll make it together.”


	7. Unfinished Business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> first off, i can only apologise for my near month long absence. Despite it being lockdown, my life has been a flurry of absolute chaos for the past few weeks, but things are finally starting to settle and i thought i’d stay up tonight to write for you lovely folk!
> 
> i can’t believe we are only a chapter away from the end!
> 
> tw for this chapter are as follows;  
> \- mention of animal death  
> \- homophobic language
> 
> this chapters title is ‘unfinished business’ by white lies.
> 
> as always, you can find me in between chapters on instagram @/face.aches! i’m always down for chatting with you lovely people, whether it’s about the fic, or anything else!
> 
> big thank you to everybody who has supported me so far in this story. it’s been a short journey but it’s meant so much to me. thank you all for sticking by me!
> 
> stay safe! x

Stuart returned back to his family home a week after the big fall out.

His mother had welcomed him with open arms, shedding a few tears as the two of them apologised for blowing up at one another. His father was more frosty, and instead settled on giving Stuart a copy of his work rota for that week. 

Murdoc had began to hate how empty sounding the flat had become now that Stuart was back home. He knew repairing their relationship was more important. Deep in his heart, Stuart had a soft place for his parents despite their disagreements. Murdoc didn’t want the blue haired boy to end up like him and his own family. He wondered if he could even call the nightmare he had grown up with family. 

The stillness within the apartment building was soon interrupted by loud banging at the door. Murdoc knew the source, and had been avoiding answering the door since the knocking had began a few days after Stuart’s departure. 

He hadn’t paid his rent the last two months, and the guy who owned the building was more than pissed. 

Murdoc, despite his bad boy attitude and anarchy, usually paid his rent more or less on time. His flat was the one thing keeping him from trailing back to his fathers house, or living on the streets, and the only material thing (other than his bass) that held any importance to him. 

He had moved out in his early twenties with little to nothing, and played odd bar gigs and stole from the old birds down at the bingo hall to make ends meet. The majority of his belongings had been left in his old bedroom. He hadn’t had time to pick them up when he had been kicked out for good. 

The place was falling apart and looked like a total shithole, but he was simply happy to be away from his family’s torment. 

This was why when Murdoc found himself at the foot of the steps leading up to the old house, he felt any source of happiness instantly melt away from his body. He hoped to whoever was listening that his father and brother were out for the day. 

The cars usually half arsed parked out on the grey concrete street were gone, indicating an empty house.

Murdoc was quiet as he unlocked the front door. After all those years, his father hadn’t bothered to change the locks, and Murdoc had always kept his key. 

The creaking of the old beaten door sent shivers through his body. He felt as if he was walking in to his own tomb. Leaving the family home had given him a chance at life, and now it was all being taken away from him again. 

He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn’t back for good. He had a plan. He was to pick up a few of his belongings, check to see if the small stash of cash he kept under the bed was still there, and then go. It was a simple in and out job, and yet Murdoc felt himself freeze up as soon as he stepped foot in to the old home. 

Being back there dragged so many repressed memories in to his mind.

He could feel his anxiety bubbling up inside him until it got to breaking point. He made himself take a few deep breaths before taking a few silent steps further in to the house. 

The living room was the first door on the left. The door had fallen off when he was 5, and still hadn’t been put back on. It gave him an open view in to the barren room. All that sat within in it was a few chairs, a couch, and a coffee table. If anybody was to glance over the house, they’d think it was abandoned. 

No personal touches or family photos were to be seen on the ground floor. 

Murdoc found himself dragging his feet up the wooden staircase. He made sure to miss the third step, remembering the time he stood on it when he was 8 and his foot fell through. The step hadn’t been fixed since.

He wondered how two grown men could live in such a sorry state. Murdoc knew that his own place wasn’t exactly the Ritz, but it certainly looked like it compared to his family home. 

He let his fingernails drag along the peeling wallpaper of the upstairs hallway. His bedroom was the one at the very end. It felt like the hallway stretched out of miles, and that he would never make it to his old room. He could hear the heels of his boots clicking as he trudged towards the old white door. The entire house was blanketed in silence, leaving only Murdoc with his thoughts. 

Outside of his bedroom door hung the only photo in the entire house. It was a family photo, taken just after Murdoc was born. The frame had been smashed after a particularly bad physical fight one night with his father. 

Inside the frame held the only photo he had ever seen of his mother. 

She was the definition of beautiful, with olive tanned skin and neatly pinned back hair. Her eyes reminded him of melted chocolate, and her smile like rose petals. He didn’t know how somebody so angelic could create such a hideous monster that was himself, or how she could’ve fallen in love with somebody like his father. It seemed impossible, and felt like a cruel joke played on him by the universe.

Murdoc let himself stare at the photo for a few moments longer, before he finally decided to enter the old bedroom. 

The bedroom walls were littered with hundreds of old band posters that he had taken from music venues and street walls during his childhood and teenage years. In the corner of the room sat his bed. It was still unmade from the morning he had been dragged out of it and kicked on to the street for good. 

Murdoc tried to pay little attention to his thoughts, and instead wandered over to the old bookshelf that sat on the opposite side of the room. His eyes scanned a few of the books before settling on the old satanic practise ones he had come for. He lifted them from the shelf and shoved them in to his backpack. The books hadn’t been touched for years, and left thick and dirty dust on his fingertips. 

Once the books were safely deposited in his bag, he moved towards the bed. Murdoc slid his hand under with ease and fumbled around for a few moments before his fingers felt the cool metal box.

He slid it out from under the bed, before shoving it in to his backpack alongside the books. Murdoc knew it had remained untouched from the weight of it, and the layer of dust that had gathered on top of it.

His eyes looked up at the unwashed window that sat above his bed. Growing up, there had always been a large crow that sat on the window ledge and watched over him, no matter the time or weather. It had been his only friend for years. He would even feed it bits of bread when he felt generous. His father had caught the bird on Murdoc’s 16th birthday and snapped its neck right in front of him. That was the first time Murdoc had ever experienced true heartbreak. 

Murdoc was about to stand up and leave his old bedroom when he felt a pair of hands grab at his leather jacket and drag him up to his feet. He was spun around, and quickly head butted. The familiar crunch of his nose rang through his ears, and he could taste warm blood trickling down the back of his throat. 

His older brother, Hannibal, was glaring down at him. His long nose was upright and stood like a pillar on his face. Murdocs nose had looked like that growing up, but from the multiple beatings he had received throughout his lifetime it was now twisted and knotted. 

Hannibal was quick to shove Murdoc against one of the walls. The house rattled with the violent push, causing the photo frame on the wall outside of the room to fall on to the wooden floor. Murdoc made a mental note to pick it up on his way out, if he ever made it out alive.

“Alright, nancy? Thought dad kicked you out of here a decade ago? Have you finally grown the balls to come back?”

Murdoc didn’t know how to respond. He had gotten used to his brothers beatings and tormenting during his childhood, but it had been a while since he and Hannibal had come face to face.

He gathered a mix of saliva and blood in his mouth before spitting it at Hannibal. It landed on his jaw, but the man seemed unfazed. 

“You better not give me any fucking disease with that. You stupid cunt. Your lucky dad didn’t catch you. He’d’a killed you, fruitcake.”

“Seriously, Hannibal. Another name? I didn’t realise we were back in primary.”

Murdoc’s head was ringing bells after his brother had decided to batter him against the wall.

“Mind that time dad caught you with the boy down the street?”

Murdoc couldn’t forget it. Every time he looked in the mirror he saw the scar along his hip. His dad had taken a kitchen knife and carved hateful slurs in to his skin. He had only been 15 at the time, and thought that over time the scars would fade. They still left little white lightening strikes along his skin even in his 30’s.

He wanted to respond, but his tongue had become heavy with blood and his head was clouded from the smack against the wall. 

Hannibal made sure to throw in a few more fists and knees before dropping his brother to the floor. Murdoc landed in a heavy pile of leather and bones. 

“No wonder she left. I’d leave too if you were mine.”

Hannibal took one last look at his brother before leaving the bedroom. He waited until he could hear Hannibal downstairs in the kitchen before deciding to pick himself up as if nothing had happened. 

Murdoc spat out the blood that had filled his mouth before staggering out of the room. Despite his foggy head he still remembered to pick up the smashed photo frame that lay on the floor outside his bedroom. 

Although he appeared utterly defeated, Murdoc was glad that would be the last time he would have to visit his family home. 

It was a day later when Murdoc next saw Stuart. His eye had swollen in to an egg shape on his face, and his nose was a mess of black and blue bruises. He could count the injuries on his fingers but the small amount of them didn’t make them hurt any less. 

Stuart was hovering over Murdoc with an ice pack, gently holding it to the others eye to try and get the swelling to come down. It was only when he began inspecting the other cuts on his friends face that he could smell the alcohol on Murdoc’s breath.

He had assumed the distant look in Murdoc’s eyes were from losing the fight, but Stuart was beginning to realise it was due to how drunk he had gotten. 

“Shit, Mudz… It’s barely even dinner time. How much have you had today?”

“Not enough.”

“Not funny. What even happened anyway? I thought I came over for practise, not to play bloody nurse and patient.”

“Doctor.”

“Boys can be nurses too.”

“Only if they’re fairies.”

Stuart felt himself wince at the name. It had sounded so much like his father. He felt as if his insides had decided to drop out of his body. 

He slowly took the ice pack away from Murdoc’s face. Stuart sat it silently on the old coffee table. He let himself take a hesitant look at Murdoc before pulling his knees up to his chest, creating a barrier between the two of them. 

“Come on. What happened? Was it a bar fight? Did you get mugged?”

“None of your business.”

“We’re friends. It’s my business.”

“Who said we were friends. You play keyboard for me and sing. That’s it.”

“That’s not fair. You know that’s not fair, Murdoc.”

Murdoc was quick to shoot a glare at Stuart. 

“Life ain’t fair. Grow up and realise it before it kills you.”

Stuart let out a slight sigh. He knew he wasn’t going to get through to Murdoc, but he at least wanted to try. 

“When that stuff all happened wif my dad, you were the first person I went to. It’s cause I trust you. And maybe you think i’m stupid for trusting you, but I really do. I know you won’t judge me. You might say stupid things to me and sometimes they do hurt, but I know you don’t mean it.”

“The whole point of saying hurtful things is to cause damage.”

Stuart frowned more at that. Murdoc took no pity at the boys sad expression. Instead he got to his feet, mumbling something about getting another drink. Stuart was quiet when he asked for one as well, and thought Murdoc had ignored his request until a glass of straight vodka was shoved in to his hands. 

It had been almost an hour since Murdoc had snapped at Stuart. They drank in silence for a while, but Murdoc seemed to soften when he saw Stuart struggling to remember which keys were what on his melodica. No matter how bad things got, Murdoc never seemed to be able to truly fall out with Stuart. 

Despite that thought, he still wanted to keep his distance from the other. He hated his fathers and brothers name calling, and how he had been punished his entire life for simply existing. He didn’t want to become what he had been beaten for. 

Stuart eventually gave up with trying to play the melodica. He went to place it on the coffee table when he realised he had stuck his hand in to a cold, wet puddle of water.

“Fuck! The ice! Shit… We should get more from the freezer so your eye doesn’t close shut. Do you have any first aid stuff? I wanna clean your cuts as well…”

Murdoc quietly agreed.

He stumbled off to the bathroom to grab the small first aid kit that he kept, whilst Stuart struggled to make his feet move to the kitchen. 

Stuart rifled through the freezer to find another ice pack, but found that his luck had ran out. He instead settled on a bag of peas. He smiled to himself when he saw Murdoc return with the little first aid kit.

“Meant to say before you went all nurse Joy on me, but I found us some cash. Was thinking of renting a recording studio for a couple day’s so we can get some songs sorted out.”

“Where’d you find the money for that?”

“Back at my dads-“

Murdoc mentally slapped himself when he realised that he had slipped up. 

Stuart frowned when he registered what Murdoc had just said. He knew that Murdoc had distanced himself from his family for a good few years now, and that they had never had a good relationship, and wondered why Murdoc would find himself back at his family home. 

“What were you doing there?”

“I left some money an’ other things there. Went to pick it up yesterday.”

He nodded at the photo that was now stuck on the fridge. He had managed to cut it so that the only people in it were himself and his mother. 

Stuart studied the photograph for a few moments, before turning his attention back to Murdoc. He was quiet and hesitant when he spoke. He didn’t want to upset his friend more than he already had. 

“She’s real beautiful, Mudz. Is that your mum?”

“Yeah. Surprised you could guess. She doesn’t look like a fucking monster… Not like me and my dad.”

“Is that why you’re all cut up and bruised?”

Murdoc nodded slightly. He couldn’t speak. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about the awful things his family had done to him. Instead he decided to busy himself with taking another drink from one of the open bottles that sat on the countertop. 

“My brother must’ve been in the house. I didn’t hear him when I went in but he grabbed me before I was leaving. Guess he got a couple good hits in for me to end up like this.”

Stuart couldn’t help but sigh as he looked over Murdoc. The man in front of him was no longer highly strung and snappy, but instead seemed to be finally defeated and ready to admit that he needed Stuart’s help. 

“Here. Hold the ice pack on your eye so I can clean the cuts on your face.”

He handed Murdoc the bag of peas before busying himself with looking through the first aid kit. Stuart soon found a few antiseptic wipes. He ripped one open before leaning down slightly to get a better look at Murdoc’s face. 

“Okay, head up to the light.”

Murdoc silently complied and lifted his head up towards the yellow kitchen light. Stuart smiled when he realised that Murdoc was no longer putting up a fight. 

“This might sting a little.”

It stung a lot. 

Murdoc had never taken good care of himself after a fight. He didn’t realise how much love and affection could hurt. He hoped it would be worth it in the long run, and that the scrapes and cuts from his brothers rings wouldn’t scar. 

Stuart made sure to carefully clean each cut on Murdoc’s face. He put plasters on some of the deeper ones that would need covered to keep clean, and left the smaller grazes to heal on their own. 

“You got any more?”

Murdoc nodded. He sat the bag of defrosted peas on the countertop before lifting up his ratty sweatshirt. He had almost forgotten about the scarring already on his body when Stuart’s feathered touches traced the white lines. 

He didn’t want Stuart to know it was a huge deal, and how much pain the permanent words had caused him.

Murdoc watched silently as Stuart mouthed the words to himself whilst gently touching over the scars. He didn’t look away when Stuart’s head titled up to meet Murdoc’s eyes. His vision went black when he shut his eyes after feeling Stuart lean up to place their lips together in a soft kiss. 

The others hand was now resting on Murdoc’s hip where the words were carved in to his skin. Stuart could’ve sworn he felt Murdoc kiss back for a moment or two before he was roughly pushed away from the other. 

Murdoc had wanted that kiss ever since he first met Stuart, and now that he had gotten it he had realised he was exactly what his father had hated him for. 

Maybe he really was the reason his mother had left. 

Stuart felt the air rush out of his lungs when he fell on to the cold kitchen floor with a thud. He was a mess of arms and legs and wild blue hair, which was now thankfully covering his tear filled eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, tosspot? I knew you were a bit weird but I didn’t realise you were actually a freak!”

Murdoc knew he could never escape his past. Despite how much he hated it, he knew he would always be his fathers son. A horrific monster, and good for nothing but pain and misery. 

“Murdoc, I didn’t mean-“

“Shut it. Fucking fag! Get out!”

Stuart was quick to scramble to his feet. He wasted no time in running down the hallway and exiting the apartment. 

Murdoc felt a heavy sob rattle his ribs when he heard the door slam shut. He was quick to wipe his painful tears, before making the trek back to the living room. He found himself slumped on the couch when the stormy tears stained his cheeks. 

He noticed that Stuart hadn’t picked up his melodica on the way out. It was still sat in the pool of melted ice from Stuart’s earlier attempt to heal him. 

That was the second time Murdoc had ever experienced true heartbreak, and this time he could only blame himself for causing it.


	8. All I Got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks!
> 
> so, here we are. the end of my first fic...
> 
> i just wanted to start off by saying a HUGE thank u to everyone who’s supported me throughout this journey. it really does mean a lot!!
> 
> i may go back and make changes to this chapter because i don’t know if i actually like it or not. but hey, that’s showbiz baby!
> 
> as always u can find me on instagram @/face.aches! please feel free to chat to me over there about the fic, other ideas i have going on, or anything at all that’s on ur mind! i’m a cosplayer too, if that sweetens the deal ;)
> 
> this chapters title is ‘all i got’ by oliver tree!
> 
> stay safe!! x

It had been exactly three weeks since Stuart had last seen Murdoc.

He knew this because of the calendar in his bedroom. It had giant red X’s scrawled on it, starting from the date that he had last seen Murdoc.

Today was August 15th, which meant it had been three weeks since Murdoc had forced Stuart out of his life for a simple mistake; a moment that had been misread whilst two souls were pressed together in a drunken state.

A kiss.

The monotony of getting ready every morning brought Stuart back to that night. It constantly plagued his mind whenever his head fell empty from everything else, which was during the majority of his waking hours. Stuart even began dreaming about that night. It felt as if he would never get away from it.

_His feet hit concrete pavements as soon as he darted out of the block of flats. His hands still stung from being pushed to the floor with such fury, but that was the least of his worries._

_Murdoc had pushed him out of his life because a kiss. A kiss that he had returned. Perhaps only for a second or two, but it had been enough to give Stuart some hope in that moment that maybe he had found true love._

_Stuart knew he was clueless, but even he could see that their countless hours spent together had meant something more than friendship._

_He had written lyrical love songs for him, and Murdoc had returned each song with another. They had confessed their feelings through poetry and melodies, all of which had now quickly turned sour for Stuart._

_He would have to get rid of his diary. It held too many sickly sweet confessions of his feelings, and he didn’t want to be reminded of any of them now._

_Stuart barely remembered getting home that night._

_The slam of the door alerted his parents that he had returned._

_His cheeks were stained and blotchy red from his crying. His hair had become damp from the drizzly rain outside, and his shoes were soaked from storming through puddles._

_His mum had been quick to make him a cup of tea in hopes that it would calm him down and warm him up._

_Stuart would need a whole field of tea leafs to fix him._

_He complied when asked to sit at the table, but he didn’t dare make eye contact with either of his parents. He didn’t want them to experience his first heartbreak, especially not when it was because of Murdoc Niccals; a man they had demanded he avoid at all costs._

_His mother was more gentle that Stuart had expected. She rubbed his arm, and called him petal and sweetheart and any other soft pet name she could think of._

_His father’s emotions didn’t quite match his mum’s, but Stuart was simply glad that he didn’t give him the whole ‘I told you so’ speech._

_When his tea had gone cold and he had run out of tears to cry, Stuart retired up to his bedroom._

_The calendar that was hung on his wall had been a Christmas gift from his parents. It had all his favourite footballers on it, and his mum had already written in important dates that he had to try and remember._

_Stuart had messily written each and every single date Murdoc had told him to, whether it be for future gigs or simply just spending time together._

_It made his heart ache realising that it had all been for nothing._

_The next morning, Stuart quit his job at the fairground, much to his fathers disapproval. He spent 5 days cooped up under his blankets, before finally contacting his uncle about working for him at his music shop._

_Even if he didn’t have Murdoc in his life, he couldn’t let go of music that easily._

_Stuart hadn’t seen Murdoc since their kiss, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ever again._

His father had offered to give Stuart a ride in to town that morning. Stuart thanked him, but quietly declined. He had gotten too used to riding his bike everywhere. It gave him the opportunity to clear his mind.

Sometimes he would purposely take the longer route through the back streets where Murdoc’s apartment was tucked away, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the other man.

Despite his heartbreak, Stuart still felt deeply attached to Murdoc. As if they were destined to be together, and to do something bigger than write shitty songs on the sofa.

Stuart had pictured their future together far too many times to give up one last look of his ex lover.

He wondered if he could even call Murdoc his ex lover. Surely lover meant requited feelings.

Whatever it meant, Stuart knew it wasn’t something easily found, which is why he still felt the deep connection with Murdoc.

The streets were empty as he whizzed past during the early morning light. He liked arriving at the shop ten minutes before his shift started, so he could enjoy the summer sun and a smoke.

Once he was finished with his cigarette, he stubbed it out between the pavement and the sole of his trainers. He was glad Uncle Norm wasn’t so harsh about uniforms and that he could dress more casual. Being in his own clothes helped Stuart concentrate more, which meant he could sell more keyboards and other instruments.

Anything to make a sale was a plus in Uncle Norm’s book.

A short bicycle ride across town, Murdoc was sat half dressed and hung out his kitchen window. The view of the street below showed him grey cracking concrete and pigeons fighting for whatever scraps they could scavenge.

He too was smoking a cigarette, but instead of sun he was clouded by a cool shade from the building across from him.

It had been exactly two weeks since Murdoc had last seen Stuart. He knew this because of the 14 empty bottles of rum that were sat on the kitchen countertop. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been fully sober. All he knew was bottle lips and cigarettes.

_Murdoc had been sick at the very thought of how badly he had broken Stuart.._

_He was leaning over the toilet bowl, trying his best not to hack up what little he had eaten that day, as the image of the teary eyed angel haunted his mind._

_He hadn’t ever seen anybody that upset in his entire life. Not even when he looked in the mirror._

_For once, Murdoc had regretted breaking something so valuable._

_Stuart was more than just a man. He was the best thing that Murdoc had ever experienced._

_And now he was gone for good._

_Murdoc found himself stripping off and going for a cold shower in hopes it would clear his mind. The freezing water was a stark contrast to the fiery anger he had thrown at Stuart for the kiss._

_He couldn’t believe how soft the others lips had been, and how sweetly Stuart’s hand had sat on his waist._

_Murdoc wanted to believe it was the kiss that had made him sick. Maybe if he went back home and proudly announced to his father and brother that he, Murdoc Niccals, had thrown up after pecking a lad, they would let him back in to the family._

_He could be normal again._

_Murdoc didn’t know if he was ever normal in the first place._

_He felt as if his entire existence was cruel joke played on him by the world._

_Once the water got too cold to bare, Murdoc turned off the tap. He was shaking as he stepped out from the grimy shower._

_Murdoc didn’t bother finding a towel to dry himself with. Instead, he grabbed one of Stuart’s tshirts that was sat crumpled in the corner from when the boy had last stayed the night._

_He could still smell Stuart’s sugary sweet scent on the old stripy tshirt when he brought it over his head and on to his body._

_This sent another flood of tears down Murdoc’s cheeks._

_He felt his body double over as he fell to his knees._

_Even when the old crow by his window had been killed, he hadn’t been affected as deeply as this._

_This was true heartbreak, and Murdoc was suffering first hand from it._

_He begged to Satan to open the ground and swallow him whole._

_He begged for the pain to stop, and for things to return to normality._

_Murdoc didn’t know normality, but he hoped that it wasn’t as painful as losing the love of his life._

_It took him a lot longer to regain enough calm to get to his feet. Murdoc was a staggering mess of sobs as he shuffled towards his bedroom._

_He could envision all of the previous nights he and Stuart had laid together under the blankets, their limbs intertwined as they talked about nonsense until one of them eventually fell asleep._

_Murdoc didn’t sleep that night. Or the next._

_On night three, with another bottle of rum to warm his stomach, he began hearing the voice of his sins calling throughout the apartment._

_Night four brought him nose deep back in to his old Satanic practise books. The insides had notes scribbled on to the pages, on every other line and illustration. Each inside page had his mother’s name written on the top left side. ‘If she could see her son now’, Murdoc thought,’ her disappointment would kill her’._

_Night five brought him around a circle of candles. He spoke unknown words whilst a storm of thunder shook the entire town. Murdoc woke up the next morning with a nosebleed, and candle wax stuck on the carpet in his bedroom. He had horrific scratches along his arms and legs, and dry blood underneath his fingernails._

_He needed Stuart back by his side._

_Murdoc knew his life depended on it._

After pushing Stuart away, he spent the majority of time looking for a new keyboard player who was even half of a fraction as good as Stu.

Nobody would ever be able to fill that position. Murdoc knew that, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself just how much Stuart had meant to him. He was more than just a keyboard player. Stuart was the first person he had ever grown close to, and who he could see a future with. Murdoc had never been much of an optimist, but Stuart brought out a warmth within him that he didn’t even know existed.

Murdoc was utterly heart broken without his songbird.

Another issue that Murdoc had run in to when trying to find a new keyboard player was that he didn’t own a keyboard, and most of the bone headed morons who called themselves musicians that came to audition for him never thought about bringing their own.

At least Stuart had always been bright enough to bring his own keyboard to band practise.

He knew of the organ emporium that was a few blocks away, and how it was run by some ancient fart who most likely had dropped out of high school and was close to his grave. He also knew these were the easiest types to steal from. Old, dumb, and defenceless.

Murdoc felt no sympathy for people in life that were doing their best and surviving. Perhaps a few weeks ago when Stuart had been at his side, he wouldn’t have thought about robbing the store, but now that his sunshine was gone he couldn’t of given less of a shit.

To hell with anyone else’s happiness, he was going to get himself a damn keyboard one way or another.

In Murdoc’s drunken state, he decided it was too much of a hassle to simply walk in to the store. He needed an easy get away for when things went south.

He stood in the mirror, his eyes glassy and washed over with a red haze. Murdoc didn’t recognise the man staring back, or the voice that fell from his lips.

“Why not kill two birds with one stone ‘n’ knick a car whilst yer at it, old pal.”

Stuart never thought he’d see Murdoc Niccals again.

Not during a quiet afternoon at work.

And definitely not whilst ram-raiding a Vauxhall Astra through the wall of his uncles music store.


End file.
